A New Verse In The Music Of The Night
by LotteLove
Summary: 1871 The Opéra Populaire suffers a night of catastrophe. 2018 The old building is being wrenched from the dark and restored to its former glory. Aria Bell is in charge of the historical accuracy of the restoration. But strange occurrences seem to plague the Opera house, mysterious disappearances, strange accidents - And soon, Aria learns, some things prefer to hide in the dark.
1. Chapter 1

_**Welcome, welcome and welcome! I have been a 'phan' of The Phantom of The Opera for many years, and finally, pen has been put to paper, well more precisely fingers to keyboard and I have finally begun to write my own Phantom story. Feel free to skip this bit – as I do digress a little, but I would just like to throw a few things out there before we begin!**_

 _ **First off – disclaimer: I do not own anything in belonging to The Phantom of The Opera and have no affiliation with the works of Sir Andrew Lloyd Webber, Gaston Leroux, Susan Kay, Frederick Forsyth and do not have permission or copyright to any of their respective works. This is purely a work of fanfiction meant only to be shared with other fans, no profit will be made from this story. All publicly recognisable characters, settings, creative works and songs are property of their respected owners.**_

 _ **Now, I would also like to add that inspiration for the title of my story comes from another talented user's story 'Rekindling of The Music of The Night' by KC Vaillancourt (who probably doesn't know I exist!) If you adore the Phantom I would seriously recommend checking out her story! It's so beautifully written with an exquisite original plot that manages to retain the essence of the movie/musical. It's utterly fantastic and the first phanfic that I read on this website.**_

 _ **Forewarning – This story is currently rated T but that might change as it progresses. There will be mentions of abusive situations, profane language and explicit situations.**_

 _ **When sentences are in bold it means it is being sung by the characters, when they are italicised it means they are internal thoughts.**_

 _ **And lastly, this story differs greatly from that of the movie. It is set in present-day Paris, with my own OC. There will be mythical and magical elements that might seem a bit absurd, but this is a story I've been wanting to tell for a while, so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did writing it!**_

 _ **Chapter 1 - Overture**_

The Opéra Populaire never thought it would open its doors after the events of 1871. It had lay in disrepair and destitution for nearly two hundred years. During the French Revolution, it had been used as a base for the proletariat rebels to plan many of their conquests of Paris, to shelter arms and supplies. During the reign of Napoléon, attempts had been made to repair the once jewel of the city, but alas, work could never be completed – tales of shadowy figures haunting the long corridors, and a series of mysterious and horrific accidents left the endeavour abandoned. In the late stages of world war one, cattle were kept in its foyer, and in the war that followed decades later, a terrible dictator walked amongst its ruins, marvelling at what once had been. Then in 1991, plans were drawn up by a stout American architect who fell in love with the building upon first glancing it on a tour of the city. However, lack of sufficient funds and interest left the plans to gather dust in a storage box in an old government building. The American architect returned to Paris three years later, and has never been seen since. Then, in 2015, these plans resurfaced, and in a time of prosperity and plenty, it was decided that the Opéra would be pulled out from the shadows and restored to its former glory, and its light would once more be a beacon of culture and beauty. Well, when it was, a place of culture and beauty. In its final year, the Opéra Populaire came under new management, two men who had made their fortune in junk, forgive me, in scrap metal. Under they're guidance the Opéra suffered misfortune after misfortune until, after one disastrous evening there was a terrible fire in which seventeen people died. To this day, little accounts remain of that fateful night, and still historians are unsure of what exactly caused the fire. Some people to this day still claim, that a curse haunts the ill-fated building, a spectre known as

"Are you still writing that?" Zoe questioned, interrupting Aria's train of thought. The young woman looked up from her keyboard, glasses falling to the brim of her nose. "Well, it does need to be submitted tomorrow", she huffed in return.

Zoe rolled her eyes, brushing her short dark hair to the side of her neck, "You think they'd get an intern to do that crap", she mused.

Aria glared, "I am the intern".

"As I recall your official title is assisting supervisor of historical enquiry and restoration", she quipped with a sly smile.

"Which is just a fancy way of saying intern", Aria retorted, closing the laptop screen before her. She groaned as she stretched her creaking limbs, pushing her glasses up to rest on the top of her nose. "A brief summary of the Opéra's history for our esteemed curator Dr Burgan".

Zoe scoffed, "How that man ever achieved a doctorate, let alone a university degree, is beyond me".

Aria smirked, "According to M. Brodeur, Dr Burgan was a talented historian – that is before he discovered the joys of scotch and weed".

The two women shared a quizzical look before erupting into melodious laughter. Aria rose from her chair; her auburn hair fell loose from its braid. Zoe flicked her hair, it's dark tendrils seemed to glow in the setting September sun. "Are you coming out with us or what?" she finally asked her friend.

Aria gave her friend a small smile, "I do have to finish this for tomorrow".

Zoe rolled her eyes, "You need a life outside these dusty books and papers, you're twenty – not sixty-five".

"I also need a pay check", Aria retorted, "Paris isn't a cheap city to live in".

"Neither is London", Zoe raised an eyebrow, "You know I can always lend you the money".

Aria's lips drew into a thin line, "No", she replied firmly, "I can pay my own way".

"Why do poor people have to act so bloody noble?" Zoe laughed, critiquing her reflection in the mirror, she grimaced, and reapplied a fresh coat of lipstick.

"Why are rich people always so bloody carefree?" Aria shot back.

Zoe rolled her eyes, and threw up her hands, "I yield", she laughed, "Just try not to work too hard, okay?"

"Okay", Aria smiled, "Have a good time, ring me if you need me".

"Love you sweetie!" Zoe called, and threw on her jacket, the door slamming shot on the backs of her heels.

Aria shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips. She breathed a long sigh, and then reopened her laptop. She stared at the word document, scanning quickly over her own words.

 _Some people to this day still claim, that a curse haunts the ill-fated building, a spectre known as_

She laughed, deleting the last sentence, "There's no place for superstitious nonsense". Aria typed quickly, finishing the report within an hour and a half. The sun had set over the city, and Paris light up just outside her window. Aria finally closed her laptop in triumph, tucking it away in the bottom drawer of her desk. She walked briskly over to the dusty old fax machine that hid in the corner of her apartment study – she'd given up on calling it a living room, no living was done there. Just mountains upon mountains of work. She retrieved the document from the printer, scanning it once more with eagle-eyed precision, and slipped it into the outdated machine. It roared to life as its old bolts began churning, loud guttural moaning emitted as it worked. She picked up the attached dial phone, punching in the numbers carefully. The dial tone hummed in her ear, and she wrapped the cord anxiously around her forefinger. There was a crackle, and then a gruff voice spoke, "I told you already you damn bitch stop phoning me unless your willing to suck my cock".

"Dr Burgan!" Aria gasped quickly, "It's Miss Bell".

"Miss, uh, argh", he slurred, "Ah yes, Miss Bell, the ah, new girl", a prolonged coughing fit interrupted him.

"Sir?" Aria managed to whisper, her face drained of all colour.

"Yes, ah yes Miss, uh, Fell. What, what do you want?" he finally managed to moan.

"I was just phoning to let you know that I faxed you the report that you requested", Aria spoke gently.

"What report?" Dr Burgan snapped irritably.

Aria felt a pang of dismay. She quickly closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "The report on the history of the Opéra Populaire. You requested that it be sent before the outing to the site tomorrow".

There was a moment of silence, and what Aria thought she heard was a loud slurp and a swallow. "Oh, yes, yes to test your knowledge, to see if your worth the effort. Can't have halfwit doe eyed girls bumbling around", he murmured.

"No sir, you can't", Aria answered expressionlessly.

"Well, well that will be all Miss, uh, Fell, isn't it? Yes. I, uhm, expect to see you early in the morning".

"Yes sir", she replied, and she heard the monotonous dialling as his response. Aria paused, blank expression, and placed the phone gently on the hook. She walked forward gazing out onto the city below her. She could faintly see her own reflection out the window, slightly glowing in the warm lights of Paris. She leant forward ever slightly and sobbed. Aria quickly clamped her hand around her mouth, hoping to silence her own cries. She tried to get a handle on her breathing, a deep breath, hold, exhale.

 _ **Mustn't cry, mustn't fret I know it seems hard But I must not forget, Must not forget.**_

 _ **I'm here for a change Here for a fresh start To others it might seem strange But not to my heart.**_

Aria turned from her reflection, pounding to the centre of the room. _Her_ room. _Her_ home.

 _ **Here, despite my trials, Here despite my fears Here I will find freedom Erase all those darkened years**_

 _ **Here, in this city Here in this place A warmth I've never known At last a smiling face**_

 _ **Here! All what was disappears I'm not that girl anymore! I left her at the door!**_

 _ **Here! Finally, I have peace No more barring doors No more losing sleep**_

 _ **Here I can breathe, here, I can live.**_

 _ **No matter what that man does No matter how he treats me He will never hurt me Because, I am here**_

Aria smiled, feeing herself renewed. The tears had dried on her cheeks. She gazed upon the framed pictures on her mantel. Of her, Zoe, her University class – the new life that she had begun for herself. This is my chance, she thought. Years working at her university degree. Studying from dusk till dawn, forging rest, fun and leisure. Doing everything to ensure that she would stand out – that someone would notice her, and see the potential she had, and maybe, give her the opportunity to make a life for herself. Aria brushed her cheeks and went to her little bedroom. Small, cramped, but cosy, and with one of the most beautiful views that you would ever behold in your life. She dressed quickly for bed and lay down on the soft mattress. "Tomorrow is a new day. Tomorrow I will be going to the Opéra House", she told herself, and turned out the light. In the dark, as sleep began to take hold of her, Aria thought for a moment, _what was it that they called the supposed ghost again? I read it in one of the newspaper clippings … Oh yes, The Phantom of The Opera._


	2. Chapter 2 - The Opera Populaire

_**Author's Note: I cannot begin to even contemplate apologising for the inexcusable lateness of this chapter. Only the second one after months of waiting? The only way I can justify myself is that so so so much has been happening in my life (not that you lot are interested, you're here for some Phantom fiction, not to hear the details of my boring life!) Basically I worked myself to death over the summer because in the middle of September … I moved out! 18 and moving out, bloody terrifying! I moved into uni halls, I am now official a first-year student of English Literature, what?! Insane. So I've been slowly but surely settling into my new life, balancing work, uni, social life yaddy yada, now finally I can go back to my writing! I've missed it so much! I won't promise you won't be waiting long on the next chapter, I'm setting myself a goal of having chapter three ready to post by next Monday. I can promise however that you won't have to wait another couple of months (pinkie swear!)**_

 _ **So without further ado and to stop myself rambling, enjoy!**_

* * *

 _ **Chapter 2 The Opéra Populaire**_

Aria pressed her head gently on the cool glass of the taxi window, she would have cycled under any other circumstances, taxis in the popular tourist areas were much too expensive. Her eyelids fluttered as she watched the beloved city zoom past her in warm pastel colours. She clutched her messenger bag firmly against her leg – the driver took no notice of the timid girl in the backseat – at 5:48 am, it was much too early in the morning to bother with friendly trivial conversation. She seemed content enough to relax in a tranquil silence, bar the faint melodies echoing from the hand radio that was taped crudely to the dashboard. Aria felt exhausted, barely sleeping the night before, and she had experienced a rather surprising wake up call in the early hours of the morning. In warmth and comfort, Aria allowed herself to cast her mind back to the knock on her door a few hours earlier.

 _Aria had only just begun to finally slip into a sleep when she heard the knocking on the door. Her heart began to pound against her chest – a familiar fear enveloped her brain as her life had trained her to do. She glanced quickly at her bedside clock – 4:27am. Panic began to rise. Who would be at her door at four in the morning? Her landlord? Dr Burgan? And then, she thought in a moment of paralysing terror, Him?_

 _Another knock, louder this time. Aria breathed deeply. Get up, do something! She scolded herself. She climbed out of her bed as quickly as possible, her feet pressed against the cold hardwood floor. She moved stealthily in a perfected manner, stepping quietly – Aria knew were every creaking floorboard was positioned in her whole apartment, where it was safe to step, and which ones would give her away. She kept her breathing shallow and deathly quiet. In her living room, Aria reached for the weighted baseball bat kept hanging on the wall. She clutched it tightly in her right hand, and with her left she reached forward in the dark, fingertips grazing on the cool surface of the door knob. Breathe. 1 2 3. Aria swung the door open, expecting the worst, the bat raised over her shoulder with the intention of swinging._

 _A small woman stood before her. Dark blonde, pristine hair, Heart shaped face and small nose, with dark, heavy set blue eyes. "Dean Leroux?"_

" _Miss Bell", Dean Leroux greeted her, "May I come in?"_

" _Yes, certainly, of course!" Aria exclaimed, dropping the bat behind her back, and moved to the side to allow D. Leroux to pass by her. She flicked the light switch and the darkness was banished away. D. Leroux glanced at the bat, raising an eyebrow, "Expecting someone?" Aria glanced wearily towards the discarded bat on the floor, "One can never be too careful, Madame"._

" _Yes, a young girl, living on her own in a foreign city", D. Leroux mused, taking a seat in a small worn sofa, placing her briefcase on her lap._

" _Excuse me, Madame, but what are you doing here, so early in the morning?" Aria finally summoned the courage to ask. D. Leroux gestured to Aria to take the seat facing her._

" _Pardon the intrusion, may I call you Aria?" D. Leroux digressed. Aria nodded her approval and so she continued, "Well Aria, I understand that you are required to be at the site within a matter of hours, but I wanted to review some arrangements with you beforehand". D. Leroux clicked the locks of her briefcase, spreading the contents – stacks of papers and envelopes – onto the coffee table. "A few documents that require your signature", she began, handing Aria the papers, "Your contract as a representative of the University, salary arrangements, your identification cards for the full access to both the site, government records and information facilities, a non-disclosure agreement –_

" _Non-disclosure?" Aria interrupted in surprise._

" _Yes", D. Leroux grimaced as she monitored Aria's reaction. She paused for a minute, "May I be candid with you, Aria?"_

 _Aria stopped scanning the document, "Yes", she answered finally._

 _D. Leroux sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, "Aria, on paper, you are assistant to this restoration – but surely you are aware that you will head the entire operation. Dr Burgan is a drunk, and a deviant. His job and his esteem are secured by his work from decades ago. He is a scoundrel but was once a brilliant historian – he essentially wrote the textbook that he teaches from. His association with this project is a formality – we need him only because of the esteem and respectability that his name tethers to a project. Aria, your job is not only to ensure that Dr Burgan does not disgrace the University, but also to oversee everything in-between. The whole team are briefed on the situation – they are only to entertain Dr Burgan, they receive their orders and direction from you. You are in control Aria. But we need you to sign the non-disclosure agreement. Dr Burgan will be vile to you. You have been his teaching assistant for almost a year now, so this you know. He will lash out and demean you, pass out inebriated in his office, solicit the company of by-the-hour women while on the clock. You will have to suffer him and his antics for the foreseeable future. For the University's sake, we need to ensure that we have your discretion"._

 _Aria thought for a moment, absorbing everything D. Leroux had told her – she had expected no less, she just didn't think that any official from the University would acknowledge it out rightly. She sighed heavily, but quickly picked up the pen and scribbled her signature. D. Leroux smiled, and handed Aria the remaining documents to sign. She passed her a brown envelope. "This is a curtesy cheque from the University – for your hassle. A pre-paid taxi will also pick you up every morning to bring you to the site"._

" _Madame Leroux please", Aria finally breathed, the Dean met her gaze, "I appreciate the kindness, but this is all very unnecessary, the university has already done more than enough for me"._

 _The Dean smiled, and chuckled quietly to herself, "You're talented Aria, but young, you have a lot to learn", she rose to her feet, brushing her slender fingers to smooth over her skirt. "The board is empathetic to your circumstances, the help and mediation we extend to you is not out of pity. You are not a charity case. You have a lot to offer and have already contributed immensely to our institution's esteem. What we provide for you, you have already earned through dedication and arduous work". Dean Leroux lifted the documents into her briefcase. "Remember, 5:30, the taxi will be here promptly"._

" _Madame", Aria called out, and Dean Leroux turned to face the young woman, the girl paused, "Thank you"._

 _The older woman smiled wearily, "Do not thank me yet, this is a monumental project that lies before you, I hope, given all that you have achieved thus far, that you are up to the task". And with her final word, she left, closing the door gently behind her._

 _It took the absence of her superior to allow Aria the realisation that she was breathing heavily, adrenaline still pumping through her veins. She shakily replaced the heavy bat on its hook, silently thankful that there had been no need of its use for another night. Aria took once more in her hands the cheque that Dean Leroux had presented her with, completely overcome by the large sum printed, 10,000 euros. It was dizzying, that such a small piece of paper could be worth so much, and Aria held it tightly in her trembling hands. Of course, she would not act foolishly, she would deposit it in the bank at the first opportunity, in a savings account. Zoe would of course disagree, she was known to spend far more in a single weekend of luxurious partying in London – not that her friend could blame her, being raised in a very heftily large income household, such money probably would seem like nothing. But Aria knew better, just because her situation had drastically improved since attending the University, she was not naïve enough to expect her good fortune to continue permanently. She had to be vigilante, constantly prepared for the very worst. With that kind of money, it would not difficult for her to make a quick departure, if needed. D. Leroux's words echoed once more within her mind, you're talented, but young, you have a lot to learn, Aria was inclined to disagree, but despite her youth, she knew more than most about how the real world works._

She opened in her eyes, she decided that she would not think about that now, not on this day, when she would finally step inside the doors of the Opera House that she so often dreamed about. Having discovered a whole portrait collection of the Opéra Populaire in the belly of the university basement, in that instant, she had fallen in love. She immediately brought them to the attention of the board, and to her continued delight, the plans were passed on to the French government, who gave the entire project the green light.

The taxi finally pulled up into the square, and Aria felt her breath hitch in anticipation as her eyes took in the astounding sight of the building. The layers of scaffolding's could not hide the breath-taking beauty of the Opera's house's exterior. Her heart hammered against her chest as she took it all in, the paintings could never do the justice. Her spirits soared as her imagination raced, countless images of what the inside must look like running like film behind her eyelids.

"Mademoiselle", the gruff voice of the taxi driver broke the spell that had been cast over the girl, "This is your stop, no?"

"Oh yes, err, pardon Monsieur!" Aria fumbled from the back of the cab, clutching her messenger bag tightly into her chest. " _ **No turning back, no second glances. It's all in the past, Here I have chances … here I can live",**_ she sang softly to herself. The sun was rising against the large dome that dominated the sky. Though still early, work had clearly already begun for the masons and builders, who she now saw clearly scurrying on the rickety boards of the scaffolds. She began the brisk ascent up the stone steps, but before she could go through the huge wooden doors, they creaked open, and a tall young man slipped out. He wore a light grey shirt, rolled up at the sleeves and tucked into dark denim trousers. His hair was a mousy brown, ruffled by the crisp autumn wind. Light stubble decorated his chin, and he smelled strongly of cigarettes and coffee.

"Ah, you must be Miss Bell!" he exclaimed in a booming voice, his accent clearly identifying him as an American. He smiled a large toothy grin, as he extended his large hand to her, "Daniel Goldstein, I'm Chief Architect of the project", he shook her hand rapidly, radiating warmth and friendliness, "It's so good to finally meet you! I've heard so much about you, and your work … I wanted to meet you as soon as you arrived".

"And so you have", she tried to laugh, but it sounded strained and awkward, and Aria could hear it. She cursed herself, and kept her smile rigid, trying her best to appear friendly in return.

"Of course, of course!" he grinned, his eyes flashing brightly in the early morning sunlight. "Well, you and I are the first here from the team, would you like to see inside?"

"Very much", Aria breathed, she hadn't meant for her voice to sound so airy, but it was impossible to hide her sense of wonder. But Daniel seemed to only be encouraged by her response, "Let's go then!"

He opened both doors very dramatically and stepped aside to allow Aria to enter first. She held her breath, and with a whirlwind of emotions erupting in her stomach, she slowly started to walk inside.

When Aria exhaled her breath, it was not in wonder, or amazement … it was, to put it frankly, crushing disappointment. Clearly most of the work that had been accomplished thus far was only on the exterior of the building, the inside still looked as though it belonged in 1781. The walls were rotted and the very few remaining pieces of furniture were waterlogged. Great heaps of peeled away wallpaper lay in a sporadic pattern in the main foyer. Statues smashed, evidence of animals and squatters all around them. It had been vandalised, defaced, graffiti-ed and ravaged. She looked with disdain around her, Aria had spent hours gazing dreamily over paintings of the famed building's interior – it broke her heart to see it in such ruin, it almost brought tears to her eyes.

"I know what you must be thinking", Daniel's voice coming from behind her, "I know it doesn't look like much right now, but think about what we can make it, we are going to rebuild it from the foundations, like a phoenix rising from the ashes!" Aria concluded that Daniel had a clear flare for the theatrical and should have been a thespian rather than an architect. She also surmised that he was an unrealistic dreamer.

"I am to understand", she began shakily, "That we will be working on the structural and decorative plans for the interior?"

"Yes, yes", he affirmed happily, "We will be working closely together for the foreseeable future, us and the rest of the team". He smiled down at her, "But of course, we all will be answering to you".

Aria laughed, "I haven't done anything like this before, I've never had anyone answering to me".

Daniel smirked, "Well, I'd much rather you than that giant lump of lard".

Aria blushed, "I take it that you've met Dr Burgan".

"Met? Can watching him pass out drunk in his home after thirty seconds count as properly meeting a person?" A look of anxiety flashed on Aria's face, and it did not go unnoticed by the young man, who smiled sympathetically, "Don't worry, Leroux briefed us all, and we've all signed non-disclosures, you've nothing to worry about".

"So, you understand the situation?" she inquired earnestly.

"Play nicey-nicey with the old hack, plump up his ego, pretend to listen to everything he has to say, but disregard it and come to you for the real work", he concluded.

Aria smiled, "That is the gist of it, yes".

Daniel led Aria back outside and introduced her to all the foremen and some of the builders, the man seemed to know every single worker by name. Aria smiled and shook hands with everyone, highly praising their work. They all took warmly to her, despite her thick British accent and youth, the men found it easy to view her as their superior as she treated them with respect and kindness.

One that stuck out for Aria, was a large cheerful man, he bore a heavily freckled face, and hard lines that indicated a long life of manual labour in the hot sun. But he wore a smile that seemed to large for his face, and his demeanour radiated positively as he clasped her small hand in his chalk-dusted paw. "It's a pleasure to meet you Mademoiselle, a very great pleasure".

"And you Monsieur", she smiled, "The work you have all done on the exterior is marvellous".

He grinned, "That is what we are paid for, yes?" he paused, "You remind me of my daughter". Aria flushed at the obvious compliment, she understood that typically, fathers take great pride in her daughters, she wouldn't know, she had never known hers.

"You're doing great", Daniel whispered quietly as they walked to a coffee stand on the opposite side of the square, they both ordered plain black coffees, the cure to their morning tiredness.

"I hope so", she sighed, "I want to make a good impression, once Dr Burgan arrives, I don't want his behaviour to scud their opinions of me".

"It'll be fine", he assured her, "besides, he'll probably rarely be on the site, he'll more than likely just swoop in at the end so that he can take all the credit".

"I don't care about that", Aria stated plainly, taking a sip of her drink, "All I want is to restore this place to how it once was".

Daniel raised an eyebrow, "You care so much about one building, in a foreign city?" he questioned.

Aria smiled, "Beauty is universal, you're here, and you're foreign too, and I'm guessing that you're here for the same reason that I am".

"And that is?"

"To see something that was ruined made beautiful again", she answered.

Daniel's expression remained blank for a moment, before breaking into another large smile, "I think you and I are going to get along like a house on fire".

Daniel and Aria brought their coffees back to the Opera House, where another four people awaited them. One female stood among older males, all who stopped speaking upon seeing the pair approach them. "Megan!" Daniel grinned, greeting the girl first with a quick wave. Her hair radiated a golden blonde in the early autumn sun and sparkling blue eyes in the shape of almonds were the defining feature of her pretty face. Those dancing eyes of her immediately settled on Aria, however, her smile only widened upon seeing the young woman. "Miss Bell!" she cheered, gesturing them both over to join them.

Aria felt apprehensive despite Megan's inviting smile, as she looked on to the faces of the men that surrounded her. She glanced quickly up to Daniel, but he seemed unphased as he strode confidently to meet them, "Mr Renard, Mr Lemoine, pleasure to see you both again", he greeted them both with a firm handshake.

"And you M. Goldstein", M. Lemoine replied politely, turning to Aria, "Mademoiselle Bell", he nodded, "I am honoured to meet the girl that Madame Leroux has spoken so highly of", and he took her hand.

"I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage", she blushed, but spoke firmly and honestly.

"Forgive me, I'm Maurice Lemoine, with the governmental offices of planning and sanitation, and this is my colleague Arthur Renard, the environmental heritage officer assigned to this project".

"And I'm Megan Moreau", Megan interjected quickly with a bright smile, "Dean Leroux assigned me to be your personal assistant".

"It's a pleasure to meet you all", Aria reaffirmed, "I am looking forward to working with you, and getting to know you all very well throughout the duration of this restoration", she thought that ought to sound professional, mature, like she knew what she was doing.

"And we you!" Megan answered for them all, and Aria smiled, happy to have gotten off to such a good start, but if only fate would be so kind.

There was a loud, firm cough, the kind that someone used to draw attention. Aria peered over the shoulder of her newly acquainted colleagues, a young man stood a small distance away from them. He was dressed in a very fine suit, with sandy blonde hair cut short and styled attentively. He was tall, and of a broad build, with lightly tanned skin and commanding blue eyes. He was what would be considered a very attractive man, but the leering frown that was etched into his face, and the cold expression of his eyes, told Aria that their introduction would not go so smoothly.

"Forgive me Monsieur", she addressed him, "I did not see you, standing far in the back". All eyes turned to him.

"You're late", he replied gruffly, consulting his watch.

"Actually we were early", Daniel replied sharply, coming to his new friend's defence, "We just went for some coffee".

The man hummed his disapproval, and M. Lemoine quickly stepped in, "Aria, this is M. Felix De Chagny".

Aria's eyes went wide, of course, she immediately recognised his surname, the De Chagny family, one of the most prominent and oldest families in France, one of the largest benefactors to the University, and to half the cultural pursuits of art in Paris. This was a man, she had most certainly not expected to meet. "Pardon, Monsieur, we did not mean to keep you waiting", she told him calmly, trying her best to avert his stern gaze.

M. De Chagny sniffed the air in contempt, turning those cold blue eyes in the direction of the Opera House, "Let's get this over then, I have other appointments to keep", and made the quick procession up the steps. The extended group followed suit, with Daniel and Megan falling behind to walk with Aria. "Don't worry about him Miss Bell", Megan whispered in hushed tones, "He won't be around much".

"What is he doing here in the first place?" she asked quietly.

Daniel stiffened beside her, "There is a reason that the de Chagny's have survived this long … through wars, through revolution after revolution. They never bothered with politics, no one could ever stay in power in France long enough to establish connections that way. No, they were smarter than that. They made themselves indispensable to the one true constant in this country, so that nothing could ever be completed without their influence".

Aria paused, her brows furrowing into a knot, "And what would hat be, if not politics?"

Daniel gave her a wry smile, "Art".

They made their way into the building, one by one. The second time was much easier, far less of a shock to the system. Instead of pain, the clogs in Aria's brain roared into life, grinding and turning against one another, in her minds eyes drawings etched into being on parchment, sketched by an unseen hand, as ideas rapidly grew, larger than life and reality. In that very small corner of her pupil she began to see all that the Opera house could be, the beauty underneath the decay.

"God, it's even worse than I imagined", M. Renard hissed into his handkerchief, "Absolutely disgraceful, I mean the asbestos alone, Maurice". Aria felt the knot in her stomach coil even tighter, as more complications seem to stack up against her.

"I'm sure the decontamination teams will be able to handle it", M. Lemoine pressed calmly.

"I doubt that very much", M. de Chagny sniffed, kicking a piece of discarded rubble with the tip of his shoe, "We should tear the place to the ground and cement over the foundations, as I had previously suggested".

Aria's heart lurched into her mouth as she stared at the Comte blankly, "Surely you are joking?" she pleaded.

"I never joke", he shrugged, before taking a glance at his watch, "I'm afraid gentlemen that I must be off, I have rather more important things to be dealing with today", he tilted his head to the government officials, "And as for you, Miss Bell", he turned to Aria, "I hope you enjoy shovelling through sewage and filth for the next year, that's all it seems that you will be doing. Good day". And with that, he briskly left, leaving a bewildered Aria and furious Daniel in his wake.

"Can you believe that man!" Daniel snarled, "Pompous jackass with old money and a cheap suit, I can't believe the way he just spoke to you".

"He can be very rough", Megan agreed, "I don't think I've ever seen him smile".

"Can't damn well imagine, unless his skinning puppies or torturing children", Daniel huffed, and glanced anxiously over to Aria who had yet to speak, "Don't listen to a word he says, okay? His feathers are ruffled because he didn't want this project going ahead in the first place".

"Then why is he even bothering with it?" Aria whispered in frustration, "why extend the effort when he doesn't care?"

Daniel pushed his glasses up the brim of his nose, "Because, the De Chagny family and the Opera Populaire have a long, twisted history together".

Aria grimaced and saw that Meg had halted and joined them, "Just ignore him Aria, has Daniel showed you the offices yet?" She spoke quickly, flicking her hair over her shoulder.

"Offices?" Aria repeated.

"Oh yeah!" Daniel slapped his head, "You're going to love this!"

Daniel ushered the two young women before him, up the rickety and sodded staircase. The three had to be careful where they tread, the flooring much more unpredictable o the upper floors than on the first. "I believe you'll be working a lot in here Aria", Daniel smirked, "And you'll see why in a minute".

Daniel led them to the door at the end of the hallway, pushing it open with the gentlest of touches, "After you", he smiled. Aria took cautious step forward, inside there was a large window, stain glass with rose decoration, it was surprisingly intact. She could not say the same for the rest of the large room. Much like the ground floor, it was in tatters. The floor was carpeted with stacks and stacks of aged papers, it was as though it had been ransacked a very long time ago, and not touched since. "This was the offices of the last owners of the Opera Populaire –

" M. Gilles André and M. Richard Firmin", Aria unintentionally interrupted him, and then blushed as Daniel smiled, "Sorry, I didn't mean to".

"Don't sweat it, it's good to see you know you're stuff", Daniel winked, "From what we can tell, this room hasn't been touched since that night of the fire in 1781, so we can assume, that most of the original documents are still here, new renovations had been done to the building three years before, so we're hoping-

"That those plans are still here", Meg smiled, "beneath all this chaos", her blue eyes scanned the floor, before locking in on one document, that she picked up with tender fingers.

"Be careful", Aria warned, "There's no telling the damage they have endured, we have to be very cautious in handling everything in this room".

Meg grinned, "You don't need to worry, I'll be careful".

Aria walked to the centre of the room, her sharp eyes surveying every crack and corner, building up a picture of what to do. "So, I'm assuming that my work begins with cleaning up this mess?" she laughed.

"We'll help you of course", Daniel chirped, but Aria simply batted her hand, "No, you have plenty of to be getting on with yourself, we all do. And the real work can't begin until we have all the necessary plans. I can sort this out".

"Most bosses would force interns to do this sort of grunt work", Daniel quipped.

Aria smiled at them, "I am the intern, just an intern with a fancy name".

Daniel and Megan left Aria to her devices. She only took a moment to collect her thoughts before diving into her workload. Her fast-paced mind had already gone into overdrive, and at once she knew where she had to begin. Each sliver of aged paper she handled with the most meticulous of care, as she read arduously the messily scrawled French. She worked hour after hour, making neat and organised piles, still without having found anything of particular interest.

Another two hours went by, with only minute chats with Daniel and Megan breaking her silence. She sat cross-legged on the floor, her back aching and her eyes blurry. Even with her glasses on, she might as well have been attempting to decipher Sanskrit rather than French. She finally huffed with exhaustion, placing the letter to the side and rubbing her eyes. She looked around her, barely a dent had been made into the chaos around her.

 _ **I never anticipated**_

 _ **I never dared to think**_

 _ **Or even contemplated**_

 _ **The work that was to lay ahead**_

 _ **This arduous toiling**_

 _ **Is overwhelming,**_

 _ **I must confess**_

 _ **But I must carry on**_

 _ **Struggle, work,**_

 _ **I must not**_ ** _falter_**

 _ **For fear if I stop**_

 _ **it will be gone**_

 _ **But my God, the task at hand**_

 _ **Please don't let it drown me**_

 _ **Please don't suffocate me**_

 _ **This splendour once completed**_

 _ **Will be grand**_

 _ **But will those notions help,**_

 _ **With the task at hand?**_

 _ **I must keep going**_

 _ **Like an unbending river**_

 _ **I must keep flowing**_

 _ **Striving to do the best I can**_

 _ **Only that will do**_

 _ **For the task at hand**_

Aria sighed deeply, scratching the nape of her neck as she rose to her feet. She wearily made her way back down to the ground floor, hoping for some respite to be found with Daniel and Megan. Down the staircase once more, she was prepared to be greeted with the sight of workers busying themselves with clean up, but instead, it appeared to be half deserted. Aria wavered as anxiety began to creep in. "Daniel?" she called, pulling her cardigan around her shoulders, why had it become so dark? "Daniel, Megan?" she called again, heart beginning to quicken in it's pace.

"In here Aria!" Relief washed over her as she heard the familiar American dialect. She smiled as she scurried in to the hall to the right but stopped once she saw Daniel packing up his things from his makeshift desk. "Going already?" she tried to joke, and the young man turned to her with a puzzled look.

"Aria, it's 5.30, the work day's done", he informed her.

Her lips parted in shock, no, it couldn't be, they'd only been there a few hours".

"But, that's, it can't be!" she gasped.

"Time flies by when you're having fun", he smirked as he packed up his briefcase, "Megan went on ahead, want me to call you a cab?" Aria was aghast, how could time have slipped away from her so quickly? She'd barely made a start in the office, she had so much she wanted to get done that day … there was no way that she could tolerate working at such slow a pace. "No, that's alright, I think, I think I'm going to stay and work a while longer".

"Aria, you're going to have to have a life outside of this place, c'mon we're all going to dinner, you need to ate", Daniel tried to persuade her, but the young girl shook her head firmly, "I would rather work awhile, I feel like I'm finally making headway, I don't want to lose momentum. You go on ahead, I promise I won't stay late".

Daniel studied her face, none to keen about leaving her in the building by herself, "Well, you are the boss", he conceded, "But if I don't hear that you've got your butt home in a taxi within the next two hours I'm coming back and hauling you home myself".

Aria gave one of her rare, genuine smiles, "Agreed".

She waved him off, closing the door of the Opera House behind her. It was rather spooky, being all alone in a desolate building by herself … but in an odd way … also exhilarating. To be entirely alone within the place that had inspired her so. Coming to Paris, working on project after project for the university, yes it had given her a distraction, a chance to make connections and hone her abilities, but none of it had moved her, impassioned her. It sounded fanciful to think about it, but when she found those dusty old paintings of such a beautiful building, it lit a flame inside her very core that she had thought been long extinguished. How funny, out of all the magnificent art in the world, it was one little Opera House in one capital city in one country in the whole Europe, that she felt an instant and deep connection to.

The whole point of her staying late was to continue her work in the offices, but the allure of wandering it's halls completely unburdened was too tempting to resist. There was one part that she was dying to see, and armed with the heavy-duty flashlight, she began to wander.

It was of course, not difficult to find what she was looking for, she walked past the very few red chairs that remained, the whole hall was nearly bare … but the stage still remained. She found herself walking helplessly towards it like a moth ensnared by a flame, she was powerless to resist it's light. The velvet curtains were still intact, and as she glanced upwards, she could not help but account for the absence of the chandelier that had been depicted so often. But of course, she was aware that it was sold in an auction in 1919, and she was actually in the process of tracking down it's current owner to see if it could be acquired to once more dazzle as the crowning jewel of the Opera house.

She shone her flashlight in all directions, trying to drink in every detail of the theatre in which she stood. Other than her tiny light, Aria was totally immersed in darkness. Not that it bothered her, she was very accustomed to the dark and night, in an inverted way, she found it comforting.

Every step brought her closer to the stage. Her rational mind raged inside her brain. _This is total nonsense, there is no sensible reason for you to be here, go back now_. **It won't hurt just to look around, when will I get this opportunity again?** _It's dangerous, you have no idea what condition it's in, you could fall through a rotting floorboard and break your neck_. **I've been quite safe so far.** _Yes, but think about what happened the last time that you were on a stage._

That last thought stopped her dead in her tracks. Aria felt the breath hitch in her throat and her grip tighten. Her rational side was right of course, she just had to turn back and forget she had ever ventured there, but then, she glanced at the stage again … it was though, in some way, it was calling to her. For the first time, Aria ignored her rational mind, and pressed forward, stumbling through the orchestra pit and climbing rather clumsily onto the stage.

A rush of adrenaline surged through her brain as she gazed out into the empty and blackness of the theatre, in her mind's eye however, she could see it in all her splendour. The wave of excitement engulfed her body, it was intoxicating. Suddenly, she was filled with a confidence she had long forgotten existed, perhaps it was due to the fact that she was on her own, or maybe, on that old crumbling stage, she felt like the girl she once was, before all the horror and stormy times had broken her down.

Then, there was the urge. She recognised it almost immediately. _Don't you dare, don't you dare even consider it_. **But no one is here, no one would know … it would just be for me**. _Absolutely not, think about the last time, think about the misery that followed, you're cursed Aria._ She frowned at herself and huffed, "there are no such things as curses", she spoke aloud, closed her eyes and sucked in a breath.

 _ **I dreamt I dwelt in marble halls**_

 _ **With vassals and serfs at my side,**_

 _ **And of all who assembled within those walls**_

 _ **That I was the hope and the pride.**_

 _ **I had riches all too great to count**_

 _ **And a high ancestral name.**_

 _ **But I also dreamt which pleased me most**_

 _ **That you loved me still the same,**_

 _ **That you loved me**_

 _ **You loved me still the same,**_

 _ **That you loved me**_

 _ **You loved me still the same.**_

 _ **I dreamt that suitors sought my hand,**_

 _ **That knights upon bended knee**_

 _ **And with vows no maidens heart could withstand,**_

 _ **They pledged their faith to me.**_

 _ **And I dreamt that one of that noble host**_

 _ **Came forth my hand to claim.**_

 _ **But I also dreamt which charmed me most**_

 _ **That you loved me still the same**_

 _ **That you loved me**_

 _ **You loved me still the same,**_

 _ **That you loved me**_

 _ **You loved me still the same.**_

Aria became swept away in the song, singing with full lungs and a quivering chest. It was like bursting free from a cage or jumping out of a plane. Total and utter release. She slowly opened her eyes, still reeling from the tingling sensations in her body. She was still smiling, until she saw it.

Th illusion shattered, and she was thrown back into reality. It was only for a fragment of a second, but Aria's sharp eyes never deceived her, she saw it, him, the outline of a man, standing up in the Heavens, before he quickly disappeared. Her brain quickly went into overdrive, once trembling with joy, now it was with fear. She darted quickly from the stage, panting heavily as she sprinted from the theatre. Was it a worker? Had Daniel come back? Was it a squatter? Her mind was racing at a thousand miles a minute as she found herself back at the main entrance. The allure of the night and solitude lost it's appeal, now, she was just a frightened young girl alone in the dark.

"Hello, hello?" she called out into the dark, "Is anyone there?" She held the flashlight tighter, "Daniel?" she shouted, "Is that you?"

Silence, that was her only response, but that did not stop the quickening of her heart. Then a loud bang broke the stifling quiet. Aria leaped in fright, dropping the flashlight. She heard it shatter, and it was all still once more. She was completely submerged in darkness now, with no light for comfort. All of her senses were on edge as her eyes adjusted. Wild like a cat's. She stood rigid as a stone, too petrified to move. But Aria knew all to well the danger in idleness. With great reluctance, she stepped forward and slowly made her way back up the staircase. Every nerve in her body was alive with fear. But she pressed on, now convinced that the sounds had come from the offices. Aria made her way forward blind in the dark, with her arm outstretched as her only means of gauging the distance.

Aria managed to find her way inside, and stumbled desperately for her phone which she had left on the desk. She grasped it tightly in hand, and quickly turned on it's torchlight, silently praising God for the dim artificial light. She directed it in every corner, but nothing in the office was disturbed. She scanned everywhere until, she saw it. It was placed deliberately in the centre of the room. Aria felt fear grip her once more, as she inched herself forward. The paper looked crisp and new, it was a letter, edged in black, with a clear, red stamp, with the seal, of what she was sure, was a feather. Her legs felt weak, and her heart pounded against her chest. There was no way, that letter had not been there before. She slowly knelt down and took it in her trembling hand. She turned it over, and her stomach dropped once she saw whose name was inscribed on the back.

 _Aria_

With her heart still thumping hard, and the last of her courage, she careful broke the seal, and removed the letter from within.

 _Aria,_

 _Your voice is embedded with a natural angelic beauty I have not heard within these walls in a very long time. It's raw power radiated from within the bellows of your heart. There is evidence in your form that it was once rigidly trained, but now it is clearly out of practice and lacking greatly in control. I advise you to simply practice both your breathing and scales, but I most also note that your pitch was completely off – you sang in the style of tenor when clearly this piece was composed for the level of soprano which I am sure you are capable – if you are not incompetent. Do this, and I am sure you shall hear drastic improvement on this piece._

 _Yours,_

 _A.O.M_

Aria stared blankly at the letter in hand, completely stunned by it's contents. A thousand questions boggled her mind as she glanced around her, her fear wholly forgotten. Who had listened to her sing? Why would they be in the Opera house this time of night? How did he know her name? Who on earth was A.O.M? She read it once more, perhaps it was a practically joke … no, her deepest instincts told her that the note was sincere, but that troubled her more,

Who could have possibly written this?

* * *

 _ **Let me know what you all think!**_


End file.
